Risk
by Third Person Point of View
Summary: The threat of war looms again and the Gundams must once again involve themselves if the world is to be saved. But after so long in a world of peace, can certain changes have taken place in their hearts? Multiple pairings. Please, please, please R&R! Thanx
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone. Please note that this is rated 'M' for several reasons including, but not entirely limited to: language, gore, and sexual scenes. Most of this rating will come into play later on as the story develops more. This story takes place several years after Endless Waltz and the Marimea Incident. The Gundam's lives will have continued and progressed and not all of it will be clearly written out. If you need help piecing any certain piece together, please just message me and I'll be glad to clarify. There are also multiple pairings in this fic and I won't give any hints as to who is with whom. I really appreciate all reviews and I'd love to get your feedback. Hope you enjoy and hope to hear from you.**

**As per the usual custom: I don't own any of these lovely characters. Except the ones you are unfamiliar with. Those are all mine. But they're not even the good ones... :(  
**

PROLOGUE:

With a supple, delicate hand, the driver clutched at the gear shift impatiently and thrust it into fourth gear. The engine revved and the sleek black car thrust forward. The needle pushed further and further, showing an alarming increase in speed, but it wasn't fast enough.

"Shit," the driver mumbled under her breath, glancing at the speedometer, then at the clock. "Come on. Come on!"

It wasn't normal for the woman to lose her temper, but these weren't normal circumstances. She shifted gears once more, forcing more power from the car, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The engine screamed in protest, but she didn't listen, didn't care.

The black BMW shot around a wide bend at a large intersection, nearing its destination.

All of a sudden, there was an ear-splitting crash as something shattered the car's driver-side window. There was a screech of tires, a sharp, unintended honk of the horn, and the car swerved out of control into the side of a small fabric shop.

In a flurry of long blond hair and shattered glass, the driver flew forward, then crashed back as her seatbelt checked her flight out of the cracked front windshield.

In a growing pool of blood, Dorothy Catalonia gasped once, twice, and saw nothing more… just two miles from her destination.


	2. Chapter 01

Quatre started awake as a shrill ringing sounded through his bedroom. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and glanced at the bedside clock. Three-thirty in the morning. What the hell was going on? He grunted and reached over, flipping the switch to turn off the vidcom, figuring that the early morning caller most likely wasn't interested in looking at him in his boxers.

"Hello?" he croaked into the receiver.

"Quatre."

"Lady Une?" he said, surprised. He hadn't heard from the Preventers Commander in years. What was she doing calling him at this hour? "What's going on?"

"There's been an incident. Dorothy Catalonia has been wounded, potentially fatal."

Quatre sat up straight in his bed, adrenaline pumping through his veins and causing him to be instantly alert. "How potentially?"

"Very." Une wasn't known for beating around the bush, but he detected a note of sadness in her tone. "You'll find her at Memorial West Hospital in the surgery ward. Someone is waiting there for you."

He was about to hang up when he thought of something.

"Une, why'd you call me?"

But she was gone.


	3. Chapter 02

Quatre burst through the double doors of Memorial West, bypassing the memorabilia of the soldiers that were saved in this very hospital during the Great War. He made his way towards the surgery ward and was stopped by a security guard at a desk.

"Name?" he asked, bored.

"Quatre Rebarba Winner."

The man was about to ask another pure formality before sending him on his way when something clicked and he glanced at something scrawled onto a clip board.

"Mr. Winner, you've been pre-cleared. Here's your pass." He handed Quatre a white key-card and motioned through the double doors behind him. "He's in there."

He? Quatre gave a preoccupied nod of appreciation and stepped through the set of doors behind the guard. The surgery ward was almost empty at this hour. Only emergency surgeries were being preformed. There was one man, standing with his back to the doors, watching the TV set put in the upper right hand corner of the room.

The man turned, having heard the soft footfalls behind him. This, in and of itself, was a feat to be admired because Quatre had learnt long ago how to tread almost noiselessly. But this was to be expected because the man standing before him had learnt long ago how to detect a noiseless footfall. He had thick, unchecked, shaggy brown hair that flopped over the nape of his neck and down his forehead into his even, unwavering eyes. His deep, cobalt blue eyes were usually cold and imposing, like ice, but they sparked with a deep warmth as they settled on Quatre's familiar face.

"Heero Yuy," Quatre said, a smile crossing his lips. It was weary, but genuine and truly appreciated. "When Une said someone would be here to meet me, I never expected it to be you."

Heero gave a small smile in response. "Me neither, but I'm the one who found her."

Quatre's brow furrowed. "Tell me, Heero."

Heero glanced at the door where Dorothy Catalonia had disappeared, bloodied and broken. He'd been walking down Main, head hung low. Another night he hadn't been able to sleep. They'd been coming less and less, but they still came. He had to walk, clear his head. That was when he'd heard the powerful whine of an engine, protesting at being pushed too hard. Then came the splintering of glass, tires screeching, a sharp honk, a tremendous crash… more glass breaking. He broke into a run, following the sound.

The scene exploded around him. The black BMW was crumpled and destroyed. Glass had rained down over the sidewalk, the hood, the driver. He caught a glimpse of pale blond in the seat. Stepping closer, he recognized the face. Dorothy was unconscious and slumped in an ever-growing pool of blood. Glass was strewn in her lap, her hair, embedded in her skin. There was a muted voice coming from the one working speaker.

"…Catalonia… Dorothy! Are you there? Answer me Agent Catalonia. Goddamn it… Dorothy!"

Heero rounded the car and forced open the passenger-side door. The driver's side was mangled and useless. Totally inaccessible. He flicked the talk button on the car's steering wheel for the inlaid phone.

"Une," he said.

"Yuy?" the voice was angry with confusion. She didn't understand what was going on.

"I'm taking her to a hospital." Heero rummaged in Dorothy's pockets until he found what he was looking for. "I've got her phone. Call me."

He stuffed the phone into his pocket, ripped out the control system and took out the hard drive. He shoved that into his pocket too. Then he gently pulled Dorothy out by her arms, trying not to lodge anymore glass into the prone, bleeding girl. He hefted her up into his arms, blood staining him. He came up to a large SUV parked on the street nearby and shifted Dorothy in his arms to get at an electronic keypad in his pocket. He wiped the computer of the car with a click and the doors unlocked. Heero maneuvered her into the back seat and hopped up into the front just as the phone rang.

Heero looked back at Quatre. "She's been shot in the base of the neck. She had specialized glass in her car."

"Bullet proof?"

"Apparently not 'proof' enough, but it might have saved her life. The glass slowed the bullet considerably and retarded its trajectory. If my guess is right, it was aimed at her temple. It got her neck."

"When is your guess ever wrong, Heero?"

Heero sighed, glancing once again at the door.

"I tried to ask Une, but she never answered," Quatre said suddenly, arms crossed over his chest. "Why did the Preventers call me?"

Heero's deep blue eyes cut into his clear green ones.

"She was just a couple of miles from your house. She was going to you, Quatre."


	4. Chapter 03

It had been a long, long night and Quatre's head was buzzing. His eyes were bloodshot and his throat was dry. He hadn't spoken in hours. He was sitting in a chair that some sadist had decided was "comfortable." His back disagreed. The chair was facing a clean white bed that housed the still unconscious blond woman. She had tubes and wires coming out from all over her, hooked up to innumerable beeping machines sustaining her life. Quatre hadn't moved from this spot since he'd been ushered in at five that morning.

Once again he found himself scanning her face. She'd always been pale, but now she was almost a ghostly white. Her pale blond hair was like a pillow of gold beneath her head. It was longer than ever, healthy and strong, all remnants of blood had been cleaned out of it in surgery.

_She's grown_, Quatre thought and then immediately realized how ridiculous this statement was.

Of course she had grown, the last time he'd seen her she was nineteen years of age, five years back. The prettiness of elegant adolescence had transformed into a well-honed, almost dangerous beauty. Dorothy had never been thought of as weak, but the word delicate was something that popped into your brain. Delicate had long been outgrown and had evolved into a sort of fierce grace. There was more giving line to the mouth and the chin now, as if she'd learned the hard way that sometimes it was necessary to cede, to wait, to lie dormant. Gone was the fiery rage and confusion that had once lined her core, leaving behind a calculating, controlled interior.

Quatre didn't turn as the door clicked softly closed behind him. There was no noise, just the sudden appearance of Heero standing beside his chair. The dark boy held a steaming cup out to blond in the chair.

"Thank you," Quatre rasped, taking a grateful sip of the coffee. Subpar, but subpar was good enough in such circumstances.

Heero merely nodded. Quatre flicked his eyes up to his old friend.

"I didn't even know you were in town," he said, glancing back at Dorothy.

"Couple of months now," Heero responded.

"When did you start working with the Preventers?"

Heero gave a small smile. "Sort of just got recruited."

Quatre grinned wide. "Charming."

"Might be good for now."

"Yeah, maybe." He meant that. "In fact, I'm surprised they haven't sent-"

The boys turned their head simultaneously as a courteous, but firm, knock sounded at the door. The next instant the door was pushed opened quietly and a head of dark, wavy hair popped into view.

"Ms. Noin," Quatre said in a pleasantly surprised tone, standing to greet the woman. As he hugged her briefly he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Peacecraft. I heard about the wedding. Congratulations."

"What do people call you now?" Heero asked after issuing his own greeting to the smiling brunette.

"People still call me Noin," Noin replied. "Lucrezia is out of the question. I actually made Noin my middle name when I got married."

"Where is Zechs?" Heero inquired. Heero didn't call him Milliardo. He had his reasons and the other man didn't seem to mind. There was a mutual respect and understanding between the two. In fact, the only other person to use the archaic moniker was the brunette standing before him.

"He's outside in the waiting room, getting ready," Noin replied, motioning behind her with a thumb.

Quatre staved the obvious question for later and offered Noin the chair with a supple, elegant flick of his free wrist. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks, I just had breakfast. But you two must be starving. I was told that you haven't left this room for hours."

The two men shook their head, willing her to forget about the inconvenience. They already had. Noin let the issue rest and looked at the woman lying on the hospital bed. She was silent for a moment before swallowing hard and expelling a pent up breath.

"Was she… was she really bad?" she asked in a strangled whisper.

"Yes," Heero said bluntly. In cases such as these, his smooth, almost monotone voice was remarkably reassuring.

Quatre set down his coffee. "Noin."

Noin took a moment, still staring at Dorothy, before she glanced up at his voice. As her eyes landed on the two men in question, she suddenly understood the huge mistake she had made in accepting the proffered chair earlier. They stood shoulder to shoulder, almost blocking the door. If the person sitting before them had been almost anyone else, the stance would have spelled danger. But for Noin, she knew it only meant the escape was absolutely impossible until everything they wanted and needed to know was said. Because you see, this was now an inquisition. And the angels of light and darkness standing before her in an impressive display were the inquisitors.

"Why is she here?" Quatre asked.

"She was shot." Noin knew it wasn't going to work and that it would never satisfy, but she couldn't live with herself if she hadn't at least tried. The two men simply stared at her, completely unflinching. Gargoyles would have had more of a reaction. Noin blew out a big sigh. "Dorothy was on a mission. Ongoing."

"What kind of mission?" Heero asked.

"Something involving undercover. It had to do with a large gun-running gang. I don't have any more details. No one did except Une."

"Who was she working with?"

"Dorothy worked alone."

"You mean to tell me that she got heavily involved with the Black Ties and she had absolutely no back up?" Quatre spat, unable to comprehend.

"Dorothy always works alone."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard." As he said this, he turned to give the unconscious woman an angry, disappointed look as if she could see him. "The proudest, most egotistical nonsense…"

"Nonsense or not," Noin said, shrugging. "Dorothy worked her own angles and she proved in the past that she didn't need a partner to get the job done. To tell the truth, I don't think anyone can keep up with her."

"That's not the point. Everyone should have a partner."

"You guys didn't have partners for a long time."

Heero shook his head. "Special circumstances."

"She was in one as well and the only thing a partner was going to do with Dorothy was get killed." Trowa left the door slightly ajar behind him. "Noin doesn't know anything else and you aren't going to have to interrogate me. I'm more than willing to share what I know in respects to this." He turned his green gaze to the woman sequestered in the chair. "Milliardo is waiting for you outside."

"Thanks, Trowa," Noin said, relieved and slipped out of the room with one last glance at Dorothy.

The three men shook hands warmly. As Noin clicked the door shut behind them, Quatre, Heero, and Trowa rearranged themselves around the room in a sort of triangle formation. It was subconsciously done, but it allowed them to have complete visual contact with all parts of the room thereby controlling who came in and out of it. Quatre stood beside Dorothy's bed after having grabbed his coffee again. One hand was now casually slipped in his pocket and he was facing the door to the bathroom.

"It's so good to see you, Trowa," he said with a warm, genuine smile at his best friend.

"It's been too long," he replied, a small tilt of his lips. "You hardly ever call anymore."

The brunette stood in the corner beside the large, curtained window, facing to door, arms crossed comfortably over his chest. His chestnut brown hair was still long in the front and shorter in the back. It was parted to the side, the shortest tips of it constantly flittering down over his straight, serious brow and brushing against the thick lashes that rimmed his beautiful emerald eyes. Trowa too had changed much in these years.

"And you never call at all," he added, glancing towards Heero.

The last of them gave a small grin. He had positioned himself opposite Trowa next to the door and looked towards the window. He could hear anyone approaching from outside and would be able to keep an eye on the outside through the gap in the curtains.

"Forgive me," he apologized. "It won't happen again."

Trowa knew his word was good. "How is she?"

"They sedated her heavily for the surgery," Quatre responded, glancing down at the pale girl lying next to him. "She won't be awake for another couple of hours. But she's stable. She just needs to heal."

"Good," Trowa replied. "Because she is the only person who knows exactly what it going on."


	5. Chapter 04

"I thought you said you were willing to share," Heero said, looking over at Trowa.

Trowa shifted from his position against the wall and slipped his Preventers jacket from his shoulders, tossing it onto the empty chair. "I am. Unfortunately, I don't know much. At least, not much more than you already know. Dorothy worked alone. And she was working on something big involving the Black Ties."

The Black Ties were an underground gang of gun-runners and crime mongers. They were basically the new-age mob and they were a tough crowd.

"Why don't we start with the fact that Dorothy was obviously heavily tied in with the Black Ties and she had no partner," Quatre said, arms crossed over his chest.

"It is a much less sinister reason that you suspect, Quatre," Trowa explained. "Neither Dorothy nor I have a partner simply because there is no one good enough to partner either of us."

"What about each other?" Heero asked.

"We're short handed. We couldn't afford to pair up. You see, when Dorothy joined, she brought with her a whole load of monetary ties and criminal leads that she had dug up. Money and crime go hand in hand, it seems. Anyway, with all the new loose ends to be tied up, all the others were dispatched on the most difficult missions. When I joined the Preventers two years after Dorothy, they were desperate. I got sent on a solitary assignment right away and Dorothy had already been through three partners."

"So what's with the Black Ties?" Quatre asked.

"The group has been giving us our fair share of problems as of late, but I can't tell you what exactly Dorothy knows of it. Nor do I have any clue as to what part of what she's involved in. And I don't know who tried to kill her."

"So what part of it are you in?"

"I'm not working Black Ties right now. I just got back from Colony X157. I've been trying to track down Justin Pino."

"Pino," Heero repeated. "The Russian? I thought he was dead."

"So does the rest of the world," Trowa said with an ironic grin. "I may have just found the clue that proves that he isn't. If he's alive, the Black Ties aren't the only problem we have."

"Black Ties, The Russian," Quatre murmured. "This is all sounding like stuff I don't want to know about."

"No one wants to know about it, Quatre," Heero said, shaking his head. "But that doesn't make it any less real."

"I learned that long ago. So, I'm guessing Une is slowly filtering in protection until we figure out what Dorothy got herself into."

"The best kind. More than half her squad is already on the premises," Trowa said, nodding to the three of them in the room. He turned his head to glance out of the window for a moment. "And the rest are just getting here."

Quatre and Heero already figured who the rest were. As if on cue the door opened and Duo Maxwell stood in the doorway, grinning. Duo had changed little physically. He still had roughish, boyish features and a ready, sardonic smile. His violet eyes missed nothing. Despite Duo's seemingly careless air, there was actually very little he missed. His hair was still done up in the characteristic chestnut braid. He was built lean and agile.

"Heero Yuy," he said, staring at him. "How the hell are you?" And with that he threw his arms around the other man and hugged him tightly for a moment.

Heero grinned and patted Duo's back. "Good to be back."

"Great to have you back. It's good to finally see you cave," Duo said, his hand resting on Heero's shoulder for another moment before he turned his attention to the waiting blond. "Quatre! Jesus, you are one beautiful man."

As Quatre accepted his old friend's bear hug, Heero turned to the other person who had filtered into the room. He smiled down at the petite brunette. She had a short, pixie cut that framed her refined, angular features gorgeous. Her black hair stood out against her creamy, pale skin and her blue eyes glowed warmly as she glanced at the three ex-soldiers in the room. Although the other ex-Gundams, especially Quatre, knew Hilde only a little, she had always had a very easy, warm air to her and it wasn't hard to be comfortable around her. In fact, of all the other acquaintances the pilot's had, she was the easiest to talk to. It felt natural with Hilde in the room.

"Hilde," Heero said, holding a hand out to Duo's partner. "Pleasure to see you again."

"Duo," Quatre said, watching as his friend crossed to the other corner to attack the last boy in the room. "I was beginning to fear I wouldn't see you."

"Me? I wouldn't miss this for the world. You and Heero finally on board? It'll be good to be together as a unit again."

"Quatre," Hilde said with genuine pleasure. She reached up to hug him warmly. Quatre returned the quick embrace.

Duo walked to stand next to Quatre, between the blond and the bed, looking down at Dorothy's pale, sedate face. He reached forwards and brushed her hair back from her forehead gently. He'd been the only one brave enough to touch her as of yet and it occurred to Quatre that Duo was the only one who could've gotten away with that. From any of the others, the almost intimate gesture would've been odd and alarming, but from Duo it was comforting. He was almost cutting through the tension by laying his fingers upon her. He shook his head and breathed in deeply.

"It just sucks that this reunion was brought about because of something so terrible," he said softly.

Hilde idly reached forward and took her partner's arm, pulling him back gently to stand beside her against the wall. Duo fell into place, still looking at Dorothy. Heero shifted, laying his hand on the door.

"I'm going to get something from the cafeteria," he announced. "Want to come, Quatre?"

He knew the answer even before Quatre shook his head. He just nodded.

"I'll go. I'm dying for some coffee," Hilde said, stepping forward to stand beside him.

Heero nodded once again and opened the door, allowing her to step through first. She waited for him in the hall and they walked together towards the elevator. From the left they could just hear Noin's voice, but they didn't pause. They didn't speak until they got to the hospital cafeteria and they were walking through the buffet line of items.

"Quatre's really worried, isn't he?" Hilde said, grabbing a little plastic box containing a turkey sandwich. "He seems a little… mad."

Heero glanced at Hilde from the corner of his eye. The girl was good, he'd give her that. He nodded. "He and Dorothy have a… complicated relationship."

Hilde looked up at Heero, interest plainly visible in her blue eyes. "How so?"

"When one is pushing, the other is pulling." After a moment of silence, Heero realized that this answer was less than lucid and he thought for a moment. "During the Great War, Quatre and Dorothy fought one of the major, tide-turning battles against one another. They're very alike, you see. One of them, however, is afraid to admit that. It causes tension. Quatre ends up frustrated almost all the time."

Hilde nodded, liking that explanation much more. They reached the self-serve coffee stand and Hilde grabbed two cups. Heero grabbed three, and something to carry them all in, and began pouring. After another moment of silence, he spoke again.

"More than anything, Quatre doesn't understand what is happening. Quatre doesn't like not understanding things. And the fact that Dorothy was working on this alone makes him all the angrier. He thinks she takes too many stupid risks as it is."

Hilde placed caps on the five coffee cups and grabbed one of the two cup holder trays. Heero paid for the meals, refusing to let Hilde hand over her money, and they headed back up to the ICU ward.

As they were waiting for the elevator, Hilde spoke without looking at the dark boy beside her. "You're more giving than they give you credit for."

Heero looked at her just as the bell dinged and the doors opened. He followed her into the elevator. She met his gaze and gave a brilliant, heartwarming smile.

"I understand why Duo thinks as highly as he does of you now."


End file.
